


Juno, soft

by dahlia2



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Trans Peter, basically juno hates himself and peter isn't having any of that, i know what the bottoms want, juno has a slight voyerism kink but nobody can actually see him and its mentioned for like 3 words, l i g h t on the dom/sub, trans Juno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahlia2/pseuds/dahlia2
Summary: Juno starts doing spoken word as a way to finally talk about his feelings, but in the process opens up the can of worms that is his massive insecurities about the way his partners in the past treated him.AKA Juno hates himself and peter loves him and then they FUCK





	Juno, soft

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in so long please forgive however shitty the following work is and stay tuned for actually good writing at some point.

In reference to anything sexual featured in this story:

 

It should be noted that both of them know that if Juno pushed back or even said or indicated that he didn't want any of this, Peter would automatically back down. They communicated that clearly in the past that if either of them ever needed an out to a sexual situation, they could simply say “stop” and the other would stop whatever they were doing without question or taking offense. Let’s NOT romanticize noncon in our fics thank you.

-

  
  
  


“I’m so insecure it burns when i breathe

I’m so damn insecure it hurts to think

About what? About everything.

 

About my lover, his hands on my body; his eyes ravaging the depths of my soul but never finding what he’s searching for.

About his ex-lovers and how they will always have been better than me, smarter than me, prettier than me.

 

About the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him. About the fact that he lied to me.

About the fact that- his hands on her body?

That kind of pain is  _ incomparable _  to the pain of him deciding I wasn’t worth the truth.

 

I think about my wedding dress packaged away in my closet. I think about how it’s bigger than I am now. By a **mile.**

I think about how  _ he did that to me _ .

He made me think I was so ugly-

I was so gross,  _ so undesirable _  that I didn’t eat.

That I changed how I acted-

and that wasn't enough.

That I did things I wasn’t okay with-

and  _ that _  wasn’t enough.

And then, when he fucked her and he  _ lied _  to me-

 

I fucked up my body and lied to myself by saying it was  _ for my health. _

 

You don’t starve yourself for a man

And call it feeding your soul.

 

You don’t spend months on the edge of death trying to be perfect

And lie to yourself about your motivations.

 

You don’t treat yourself like your abusers said you deserved.

 

I”m so insecure it hurts when I breathe

I”m so damn insecure it hurts to think.

About what? About you. Cause you were my everything.”

 

It wasn’t good. Juno knew it. He hadn’t been doing slam poetry for very long and even though he had written it before the show it didn’t compare to those who were doing their on the spot spoken word before and after him. That didn’t matter. He’d got there eventually.

 

Until then his friends in the bar clapped, hooting and hollering for something they knew he was only just beginning to unpack. He smiled, the beginning of a blush creeping up his neck, spreading along his cheeks, diving beneath the patch over his right eye.

 

He gave a dramatic bow before turning, grabbing his tan trenchcoat off of a chair he had draped it over, and slinging it over his shoulder. As he walked off of the stage he heard someone whistle. Peter, probably.

This was the one place during their missions that Juno felt safe to go and watch people express themselves and now? Now he was doing it. He was opening up in a way he had never really felt alright doing so before.

 

It felt exhilarating.

 

And, also, it felt like he was digging up a pain he had long since buried. Nobody needed to know he wanted to die when he was actively feeling it, but now some sort of cynical version of himself had bubbled up with the excavation of decade dead self-hatred.

 

It wasn’t that he had stopped hating himself, per se, but he had stopped thinking about it.

 

It wasn’t that he had stopped being insecure, but that he had worked that insecurity so thoroughly into his worldview that he assumed that everyone felt the same way he did and all relationships were just as doomed as he expected.

 

Nobody was special. Nobody was important. We lived, we died, we rot in the deserts of mars because our families couldn't afford or didn’t care about a fancy funeral. Or even a casket.

  
  


-

  
  


“Juno,” Soft.  _ Hurt. _  He was both at the same time and Juno couldn’t stand it. He couldn't stand feeling like his insecurities had hurt Peter but at the same time who was he kidding? They weren’t insecurities. They were  _ the truth. _  “-don’t you believe me when I say that I love you?”

 

Juno was shorter than Nureyev by a mile, but when he looked up at the man he didn’t think about that. He did n’t consider how he was perceived in that moment but instead, he focused on the hundreds of moments preceding it by the thousands of people he’d encountered in that year alone.

 

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t know why he felt the way he did, felt like beneath his skin was a current of pure malice that ran through his body like electricity, powering his every movement.

 

“Not for a fucking second.” The words slid from his lips like a snake, seeming slow up until the moment that the pain of their strike sent the listeners reeling. And there was pain. Peter’s face fell. There was still hope, Juno thought, before he had said what he did.

 

“Why?” A pause. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

_ Oh.  _ He thought.  _ Shit. _  An unforeseen consequence.

 

Juno took a step away, feeling the wind through the open balcony door of the apartment push against his coat which billowed out around him as well as against him dramatically. He didn’t mean for the conversation to get to this. He didn’t even know how it ended up there.

 

One minute he was making self-deprecating jokes. The next they were arguing. Now they were there, in Peter’s current apartment surrounded by paintings they bought at an art gallery, photos they took together (first to cement the rouse of the mission that had originally landed them in the building but then later just for one another), the refrigerator they got together at a large department store  _ like a real couple would. _

 

So why? Why, why,  _ why _  didn’t Juno trust him? Why didn’t Juno believe him?

 

Why did he get anxious whenever Peter was too vague about where he’d been? Why did he get scared when his partner went out on a business trip? Talked about a future that didn’t always include him? Got a little over excited about a new friendship, or a clearly beautiful new coworker or new acquaintance?

 

God, maybe he  _ was  _ still insecure. Because, he thought to himself,  this feeling certainly wasn’t jealousy. It hurt too much. It brought back nightmares of lovers past who he gave himself to a little too much just to be stabbed right in the back.

 

His hands raised. Surrender.  He continued to take steps back. Peter didn’t follow.

 

“No, I-” His feet hit the ridge of the doorway to the balcony. He took the chance to turn around. Close the door. Hands moving. Shaking.

 

When he looked out the window, looked over a city so similar to Hyperion that he could almost mistake it for such if he wasn’t so constantly hyper-aware of his surroundings, he tried to collect his thoughts. He tried to find answers to all of the questions. To the things that burned. To the friction that had created the malicious current within him that had led them to that very moment.

 

When he turned back, Peter- oh the kind, gentle angel that was Peter Nureyev- was still standing. Standing still. A statue awaiting a hurricane. Juno could at the least understand  _ his _  perspective, emotions on this.

 

“I just don’t think it’s possible for  _ anyone _  to care about me.” He didn’t dare make eye contact as he said it. “And if they even begin to- I-”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m never good enough for it to be exclusive.” He looked up. Looked Peter dead in the eye when the admission was through and quickly shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter anyways.”

 

Fall into character.  _ Fall into character. _

 

Private Eye Juno Steel knew how to act. Maybe not the best when he was in a situation like this, but deep down he fuckin knew how. It was pretty easy.

 

_ Ignore what’s going on in his head. _  He could cry later, when the phone hung up, when everyone went to work, when mom wasn’t home. He could cry when it was dark and there was nobody around to hear him break down. Just  _ not right now _ . For now, he just needed to-

 

_ Play it cool. _  If anyone asked in the moment he was happy to be there, he was having a ball, nihilism was grand.

 

_ Just keep it up until they leave you alone _ . That’s what he did best. Relentless self-hatred is never so sexy as when it is unseen, tucked away, only discussed in brief moments before the conversation changes to “How was work?” “How are you?” “What do you think about me doing something drastic as a way to change my body but really just so that you’ll think that I’m perfect for you and you’ll never leave me for one of your attractive work friends?” “What’d you have for dinner?”   
  


He cared about the answers to all of them. He also cared a lot about never having to talk about what exactly  _ feeling a little insecure  _ entailed. Unless it was on a stage where he could be lost in a crowd’s emotions, where he could forget to tell Peter he had a show that night.

 

He started forward, intending to swing onto the couch.

“That’s just how life is ya know?” He smiled, trying to come off as snarky, cool, sarcastic. He felt like an ant pretending to be a giant. “You live, you love, your lover grows bored of you and leaves you for their-”   
  


He didn’t make it to the couch. Suddenly, Peter was in front of him, looking down at him with his once teary green eyes now downright predatory. His brows were furrowed. The mood of the room changed in an instant.

 

Juno gulped.

“-secretary.” He finished, voice nowhere near the same as it had been before.  He felt heat in his face and a spark of arousal that he knew he probably shouldn't have at all been experiencing.  Manic, malicious current interrupted.

 

Peter was wearing a red button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal light olive toned arms, the first couple of buttons undone. He had on  _ tight _  black leather pants, matching boots that made him even taller than he already was, and fingerless leather gloves with silver accents that glinted in the light of the moon behind them in the same way as the piercings on his ears and brow.

 

He was hot. Simple as that. Even more arousing was the way he bit his bottom lip with his teeth, one of his pointed canines pressing into that soft flesh that Juno knew could and had in the past easily been pressed against his throat.

 

He was looking at Juno like he was a meal, and damn if the detective didn’t mind the idea of his partner devouring him whole.

 

Peter took another step forward. Juno was already close to the glass door he had just closed and as he reacted to the movement he backed directly into it. Peter didn’t stop. He was right in front of his partner, swiftly bringing his hands up to his shoulders and pushing him even harder up against the glass. Then, they slip up to cup his face.

 

Juno could feel his heart in his chest, in his head. Pounding, pounding,  _ pounding _  away as he tried hard to remember what he was saying just a few seconds before. Less than a few. One. Tops. Peter moved so quickly, predicting him was like trying to take photos of lightning in a rainstorm. You just end up frustrated, eager, paying attention to every little micromotion.

 

Peter’s voice growled out his next words,  clearly reveling in how Juno was backed up against the door, his palms surely marking up the glass. Clearly having wanted his partner there so that he couldn't casually get out of the conversation by changing the subject or walking off to the bathroom or kitchen for a mumbled object of some sort. This was a direct confrontation. Juno  _ would _  listen.

  
  
  


“You’re **mine** , Juno.”

 

Hearing that shouldn't have excited the PI as much as it did. It shouldn't have distracted him, leaving him abundantly aware of the way his thong wouldn't keep him from getting his thighs messy if he ended up a little too wet. But it did. God, it did.

 

He breathed in sharply, almost gasped if it hadn't've been so quiet a motion.

 

Peter's hands were in his hair now and he tugged gently as to turn his partner's head to himself. Juno moaned, looking into lustful green eyes and a sharp-toothed smile. He felt like a woman seduced by a vampire. He kind of felt-

No.

Not yet.

 

His thong was uncomfortably tight. He spread his legs, hoping to alleviate the pressure on his dick- or, maybe,  hoping that Peter would  _ do it for him. _

 

“I want you. Understand?” Peter said in the same tone, moving close against Juno’s ear so that the man could feel his lips against his skin. It sent a shiver down his spine. “You're all I need.”

 

He kissed the top of his jawline, tugged against Juno's earlobe with his teeth. Against the door, the PI felt his knees give for a moment before Peter's thigh- hot and thick-  was between his legs, propping him up.

 

Juno already knew he was wet. With every passing second, he was growing wetter and soon enough Peter would feel it, would see what he did to his love.

 

“Peter, I-”

There was a bite down against the most sensitive part of his throat. Juno tried to throw his head back in a moan. Tried. When that didn’t work, because he was restrained by his lover's hand in his hair, he let loose an embarrassing, desperate,  horribly  _ slutty _  noise as he ground his crotch against Peter, his dick pushing against his thigh and  _ almost  _ giving him the friction he desired.

 

“ Fuck” he managed to groan out as Peter pushed his thigh up, rubbing right against his dick. The lips on his throat went lower.

 

“You're all I want.” He was hopeless, rutting against Peter like it was the last thing he'd ever do. Like it was the  _ only thing he wanted to do.  _ He was powerless to argue back. He was incapable of reminding Peter of his inadequacies, his imperfections, that he was too ugly to deserve to be in a committed relationship, that he only dissapp-

 

Peter released his hair, sliding his warm hand under Juno's tee and over a soft stomach until he reached an equally soft chest. Unlike Peter's, Juno carried no scars. He had kept himself the same as he had developed. That is to say: Juno still had tits while Peter had opted to have top surgery at some point in his life. There. No need to word it weirdly.

While he had no problems with that part of himself, he did overall take issue with his torso. He wanted to voice those opinions about his features, but as he opened his mouth to do so he felt Peter's tongue, soft and wet, circling his left nipple.

 

His comment instead came out as a moan. Quick, almost as if he were crying out, overwhelmed with how  _good_  it felt to be touched like that.

 

“Peter, I-” The man in question bit down, lightly, and Juno ground against his thigh even harder. The mouth pulled away, just long enough for Peter to push off Juno's trench coat, get rid of that damned shirt.

 

The PI closed his eyes, so he didn't have to see what laid beneath an old cotton tee and his coat of invisibility. He leaned his head back onto the door, embracing the feeling of cold,  _ cold _  glass and that hot, warm-

 

“Darling, I want  _ you _ ,” Peter said, with so much sincerity and emotion that Juno himself had to find a way to restart his heart after the declaration. “Only you.”

 

Tears. The horrendous creatures of betrayal threatened to spill out onto Juno’s cheeks but he refused to let them without a fight.

 

Peter kissed his way to the right side of his chest, leaving a purple mark against his skin. He paused before he gave his right nipple the same treatment his left had just received- long enough to say in a heavy, lustful voice that was undeniably full of want  _ for Juno _ , not just a warm body to fuck like the PI had become accustomed to before meeting his partner, “You’re  _mine_.”

 

It shouldn’t have made him want to cry. And, to be completely honest, Juno  _ didn’t _  want to cry. Crying was a weakness and Sarah Steel had never let him forget that. Crying made men  want  to  _hurt_ you.

 

But he did cry. The tears started slowly and stayed slow. Still, they were there rolling down his cheeks without giving a single care about what his mother used to tell him.

 

It wasn’t very sexy.

 

Peter was kissing down to his stomach when he looked up and noticed. Automatically he pulled away.

 

“Juno, darling. Hey-” His voice was filled with concern. Lost was the lust of a moment before, as much as Juno desperately wanted said lust to stay right where it was. Or, perhaps, go a little further down, maybe be expressed by a mouth around his little-

Peter placed his hands on his partner’s hips and pulled his leg away, giving Juno the option to adjust if needed, or pull away. Instead, Juno opened his eyes fully before shaking his head, those dark brown irises holding an emotion Peter did not understand.

 

“No, don’t stop. Please.” He said quickly, wiping away the tears. “I like it- I was liking it.”

 

“Honey if you were liking it, why were you crying?” Peter responded, brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and confusion. His hands remained on Juno’s hips, grounding and safe.

Juno could still feel his own heart pounding, loud drumming in his ears reminding him that he was alive at this moment in a way he hadn't been in years.

 

“Because I’m a big idiot.” Juno sighed, rubbing at his eyes again but this time pressing the heels of his hands into them when they were closed as he spoke.

“No.” Peter replied, a small smile ghosting his face, barely lasting to the rest of his statement as his concern won out, “Now, don't be so rude to my boyfriend and tell me what's wrong. Did I come on too strong?”

 

Juno shook his head. “No!” He said a little too forcefully. Peter blinked.

 

“No, fuck I just-” His head thunked against the door as he leaned back, sighing in frustration. It didn't help that he was still overwhelmingly horny, that he felt sticky between his legs. his underwear plastered against his pussy from how wet he had become. He mumbled his next admission. “I've never felt wanted like that before.”

 

“What was that dear?”

 

Juno groaned.

 

“I said-” he peeked one eye open, having closed them when his head hit the glass. Peter was giving him all of his attention, reminding him of a husband speaking to a doctor about his wife.  **Husband.**  Nope. Nope nope nope.

 

“Isaidineverfeltwantedlikethatbefore. Jeeze. Let up. Can we please just go back to where you fuck me against this door and we pretend I'm-”

Peter almost looked offended. He stepped closer until they were chest to chest. Touching. Peter's hands on Juno's hips burned, the man ached to pull them back onto his bare skin again, over his chest in the same way he wished to push his dick between Peter's very talented, very kind lips.

“Juno I have  _ always _  wanted you." He said, with a determination in his voice that sent shivers down Juno's spine. "From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to spend my life with you, in whatever form our relationship would take.”

 

“Nureyev-” Peter held up a finger to silence him. Juno briefly considered if taking it into his mouth would shut the man up. Or bolting from the room.

Some sick part of him wanted to stay though. Wanted to be wanted even if Juno himself had always thought that was impossible.

 

He wanted to know if Peter Nureyev was as much in love with Juno as he was him. Embarrassing. Cringy.  _ True. _

  
  


“ I want you. Not because you're perfect or ever need to be. Not because you are one size as compared to another. You were just as beautiful when you fit that wedding dress as you are right now." his hands were slowly moving up to Juno's chest again, eyes going over his stomach with such reverence when he spoke of his body that Juno thought  _If these words don't kill me, this will._  

" I want you because you're  _you_  Juno Steel.” If his voice was like honey then the smaller man could consider himself a bee in the wintertime. He held onto every  _single_  word spoken, hungry for more.  _Needing_  more.  _Starving_  for it. 

He shifted his gaze to watch soft lips move and tilted his head, inviting whatever touch was offered.

 

He received a kiss.  Gentle, careful. It wasn't the dominating possessive kind he had been given just moments before, but Juno loved it all the same. He loved feeling needed.

He felt himself blush, so hard he knew he had to be visibly red.

This was embarrassing. Who was he? His mind was screaming similar thoughts as Peter continued, but- for once, Juno was going to allow himself to be loved.

 

“I want you because you're determined, because you didn't run away with me selfishly that first night we slept together. You were going to  _ save Hyperion. _  I love you because behind all that sarcasm and wit, you are a good person who will do everything within his power to help others."

With each declaration, Peter pressed kisses against Juno's scarred, freckled skin. He worked his way down from his lips to his throat to his collar bones. He kissed his shoulders, elbows, hands. 

 

“I want only you because you are not inadequate. You fill every space I need. You are not broken. You are whole and beautiful and desired.

 

“ You make dumb decisions and you don't let others get away with whatever nefarious acts they have up their sleeves. You are fiercely defensive of Rita even when you pretend that she gets on your nerves. You save rabbits in sewers even when they might turn around and eat you. You're good in a way I never have been.

He kissed knuckles, fingertips, palms. Once. Twice. Three times each. He returned to Juno's chest, then his stomach. On his knees now, praising his partner like the goddess he was, Peter looked starstruck.

“You are an imperfect person who is a perfect match for me, as cheesy as that might sound." He kissed his left hip, fingers in Juno's belt loops. He pulled away then, looking up. 

In the back of his mind, Juno wondered if Peter could tell how wet he was without ever even undressing him. In the front, in the present, he thought about how lucky he was, to have finally found someone who would feel this way for him. 

Peter looked up from where he was on his knees. He was blushing, his hair was a disaster, his shirt wrinkled from where Juno had pulled at it when he had been pushed up against the door. 

"You're mine, and in turn, Juno I will always be yours." 

He looked like he wanted to jump up again, to feel Juno's lips against his one more time. But, he also looked like he was hungry for something. That something being between Juno's legs, achingly hard and rubbing uncomfortably against his underwear in a way that was almost too much to resist.

 

"Can I?" He said, and Juno nodded.

 

“I want you." He replied, and this time he knew the feeling was mutual.

He didn't have too much time to think about that or find reasons to be insecure or overanalyze whatever Peter had said in the past five minutes. In one quick movement his pants and underwear were pulled to the floor, tugged off of his body, thrown to God only knew where in the living room. Juno spread his legs, as far as they could go given that he was propped against a door-

a  _glass_  door. Where anyone in the city could theoretically look up and-

Peter's mouth was on his dick in an instant. His tongue lapping over it in long strokes as one of his long, thick fingers drug along the lips of his pussy. Juno bucked his hips, his bare ass pushing against the glass.

"Fuck- Peter!" He cried out, gasping as Peter's finger slid into him, quickly fucking into his hole. It took all of Juno's willpower not to come right then, after spending God knew how long begging internally to be touched. He brought his left leg over Peter's shoulder, instinctively grabbed at his hair, fucking against his face and in the process against his finger.

"God-" He started, but Peter was already pressing a second finger into Juno's tight hole, almost filling him up. Still. "I need more Peter- fuck- harder daddy. Please !"

Peter moaned against his pussy, finally giving Juno what he wanted when he roughly began to fuck him with three fingers, so hard that it moved Juno's hips and they thumped loudly against the window with each push inside of his wet hole, just another noise to go accompany his begging and moans. 

"Fuck, please daddy.: Peter took Juno's dick into his mouth, sucking quickly and pressing his tongue against the hip in fast strokes. Juno tried desperately to keep up with the pace of the fingers inside of him, his begging turning into screams as he got closer to the edge.

"FIll me up. Please, Peter- I need you. Please. Harder. I- I- I- Daddy I'm gonna- FUCK!" 

He came against his lover's face, squirting into Peter's mouth before he could warn him. Peter didn't care. He fingered him through the rest of his orgasm, pulling off of his dick knowing that it would be too sensitive if he continued. 

Juno slid down to the floor, pulling peter in for a kiss, tasting his pussy on his tongue. He moved to tug at Peter's pants, only then realizing that the other man had been clothed the whole time, but his partner stopped him.

"Not right now darling. Tonight we just focus on how much I want you." 

And right then, naked on the floor after being fucked senseless, before he would go on to be fucked again in the shower and once more on the bed, Juno started to think that maybe Peter really did want him.


End file.
